In Iron, Forged
by 144MeditantLight
Summary: Bolo/ME cossover, heavily AU. rated M because of very... colorful swearing and general heavy action violence. may contain occasional moments of humor.   FEAR THE HELLRAIL! FEEAR EEEEET!
1. Prologue

In Iron, Forged: a Mass Effect/ Bolo series crossover detailing first contact between alternate versions of the Citadel Council and the Concordant of Man,

the subsequent war, and a retelling of the events of the first and second Mass Effect game based on this ver_y_ different universe._  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>In Iron, Forged,<em>

_for only Iron could save them,_

_In Steel, Clad,_

_for steel are their souls,_

_In battle, Proven,_

_for battle is their place,_

_In Peace, Rested,_

_for only solders truly value it._

engraving at Nike field, attib. to Unit NKE of the Line.

* * *

><p>PRIORITY ONE MESSAGE<p>

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

encryption key zeta-omega-gamma

from: LANCELOT

to: AUTHER

re:ROUNDTABLE

We've been examining Object Gamma-Bravo-Kilo for three weeks now, and have surmised its function, and part of its operation. The object is approximately ten Kilometers in length, comprised mostly of a tuning-fork like assembly, which surrounds a large dark-matter core. Despite its inactive state, the power readings we're getting from it are astronomical. 1179-JOY has deciphered the transmission we received when we approached the object. It contained technical detains for activating the device, as well as a brief description of the object, which was referred to as a 'Gravity Slingshot.' apparently, it is capable of transporting ships across vast distances near-instantaneously, a feat of engineering unparalleled by anyone we've encountered thus far. unfortunately our attempts to gain access to, or even _date_, the object have been unsuccessful. Whoever built this thing used a previously unknown alloy. We tried everything short of a Hellbore on it, and it just sorta... bounced off.

However, the data packet indicated that there is a network of these devices spread throughout the galaxy. The implications are obvious. LANCELOT hereby requests permission to activate the device.

Message ends.

* * *

><p>PRIORITY ONE MESSAGE<p>

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

encryption key Tango-foxtrot-alpha

from: AUTHER

to: LANCELOT

re: ROUNDTABLE

word's come down from on high. You are to activate the object, code-name ROUNDTABLE, and survey the exit point. Good luck and godspeed.

Message ends.

* * *

><p>PRIORITY ONE MESSAGE<p>

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

encryption key zeta-omega-gamma

from: LANCELOT

to: AUTHER

re:ROUNDTABLE

LANCELOT activated ROUNTABLE at 0850 local. MERLIN was then sent though, and returned at 0930 local. Their report indicates that there is a binary planet in the Goldilocks zone, as well as three additional ROUNDTABLE devices in a stat of deactivation. GARITH suggested making this the capital, since the rarity of twin worlds would draw plenty of traffic. LANCELOT hereby recommends the establishment of a new sector, and an organization or division devoted to exploring this finding.

Message ends.

* * *

><p>AN: alright folks, here we go. MEBolo crossover, heavy AU. I'm borrowing a smattering of ideas from the only other one, but this isn't a direct clone. Welcome to the Shanxi Sector!

Regarding ME tech – expect a good deal of humbling as far as Citadel fleets go. Their first encounter with the Dinochrome Brigade and the Concordant Navy is going to be... unpleasant to say the least. Timewise for ME its (obviously) pre-first contact, for the Concordant, Nike's Charge already happened, Fort Merrit is brand-spankin' new, and the Melconians haven't shown up.


	2. Chapter 1: The Relay

A/n:

AAREEE YOOUUU REEEAADY TO RUUUUMMMMBBBLLLEEEEEE!

* * *

><p>Specter Ashana was not having a good day. In fact, if the slim Asari had been asked to rate the day on a scale of ten of 'oh, fuck,' she likely would have pinned the ask-ee to a wall for an hour as a response. As she reflected on this, the ship's decompression warning interrupted her thoughts, as did the entire ship jumping about twelve meters away from the twin world, signaling yet another hit on the cross-shaped dreadnought.<p>

But perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. in fact, some forty-eight and a half hours ago, Specter Ashana was having a pleasant, if boring, day.

Some forty-eight (and a half!) hours earlier, the Citadel docks:

"So," the irritated Turain captain said, "not only do I get the _vast_ honor of commanding ships held together with string, spit, and hope, not only do I get to tempt fate by flying said ships a mere stone's-throw from the Terminus systems, I also have to ferry a specter on a routine patrol for no reason? Wonderful."

"honestly, Venshar, if we hadn't spent twenty years in the thick, I'd think you didn't like me!

Or are you still annoyed that I made Specter and you are still a flotilla captain?"

Venshar sighed mentally. While it was true he resented being stuck in his job, he did enjoy it. As he enjoyed the company of Ashana, for the two had served together in the Geth wars, him a frigate captain, her as one of the feared Asari Commandos. Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

"No, A', it's just... old wounds. You know the type."

the two shared a moment.

"well, let's get started then. So why are you here, Ashana?"

"actually, the reason I am here is currently late. I suspect, however, that this is due to her pinning a particularly annoying Bataran captain to the ceiling of the markets for several hours." the Asari Specter said ruefully.

"Ha! I just wish we would do something about those... those..." Venshar growled subconsciously, seeking an epithet dire enough.

"Goddess-forsaken spawn of Varren?" supplied a young-sounding voice, with a hint of humor.

"exactly."

"Shalia! There you are!"

The younger Asari grinned, and it was then that Vaenshar noticed something. Despite her obvious youth, Shalia had a large, livid scar that ran from just above her eye into the shoulder of the skintight bodysuit she wore, cutting diagonally across her face.

Scars, especially those on young Asari, where unusual in Citadel space, as Medi-gel only left scars for the most grievous of wounds, and such scars could be removed, if attended in a timely fashion.

Then her name and face registered in Venshar's brain.

"HOW DID _SHE_ GET HERE?" roared the Turian captain, "Ashana, I have a deep respect for you, but you have _ten seconds_ to explain why this... _thing_ is on my deck before I space it."

"awww..." the scarred Asari mock-pouted, "is the big, bad Turian war hero afraid of little old me?"

"FOUL-"

"ENOUGH!" the Asari Specter glowed with biotic power, pinning the two in place with fields of gravity. "Shalia is here to... _serve_ her sentence. I have been given the _Great honor_" the Asari Specter spit the words like poison, "of overseeing her until she gets herself killed. The Council, in its infinite_ wisdom,_" her tone made clear her opinion on the Council's 'wisdom,' "decided that serving under a Specter was the most likely way for her to serve her sentence. Obviously, despite my best efforts, she has yet to die. Further, there is a tamper-proof explosive collar fitted around her neck, she knows _full well,_" this was directed at the still-smiling Shalia, "That I can _and will_ blow her sick head clean from her shoulders if she steps out of line."

at this, the smirk disappeared for a moment, a look of pure hate flashing across the pinned Asari's face, before she admitted defeat.

"Alright, I'll play nice with the idiot."

"WHY YOU-"

the Specter sighed "don't let her get to you, Ven'. Its what she wants."

"yes. I suppose. But _she_" he spat the pronoun like a curse "sleeps in the brig, under armed guard. And if she does _anything_ that even _remotely_ looks like trying to escape, you won't get to use that collar, because I'll have my VI decompress the entire _DECK!"_

"do I make my self _absolutely_ clear?" this last was delivered at a deadly-sounding whisper that promised violence.

"yes. I don't like it any more than you do, for the record."

"noted. Now get that murdering bitch out of my sight."

Twelve hours later, near the Terminus systems, Turian anti-piracy task-group

"what are we looking at Lieutenant?" Captain Venshar Kirad had a headache, and that headache's name was Shalia T'vonti. Shalia was the cause of his headache, because Shalia had murdered three elder matriarchs, their followers, their followers families, two Slarain task groups sent to investigate, three-hundred-odd mercenaries sent her way, including four Krogan, one a Battlemaster, and had polished off a C-Sec strike-group and two Specters for an encore. She was, in short, exceedingly dangerous, extremely powerful, and completely insane.

Shalia T'vonti was a sociopath, and had, once finally captured, recounted her exploits quite cheerfully, and in livid detail, to the Citadel Council. At this point she dropped off the public radar, as the thought of a single individual that would commit such atrocities without even a shred of guilt, simple out of _boredom,_ was not something sane people liked to think about.

Venshar had no doubt that, were she not fitted with the collar that contained both an explosive and dampeners for her biotic powers, she would have crushed his ship like an egg merely out of spite.

As it stood, the only this she could do was hurl insults out of her cell, which she had until he'd threatened to throw her out the nearest airlock, sentence be damned, if she uttered another word. She had then shut up so thoroughly that it was beginning to grate on his nerves. However, the musing on is headache and its origin was interrupted by the lieutenant's reply.

"I'm not sure sir. One of the drones reported some weird anomaly near one of the mass relays, then nothing. It just ceased transmitting data of _any_ kind, sir."

"strange. Well, it's in our area, so our orders are to investigate. If it's pirates or mercs trying to find a new shortcut, we need to stop them. We _still_ haven't recovered from the Geth wars, let alone the Rebellions. The Citadel can't afford another Rachni war."

"Yessir. Plotting course now. We'll be at the drone's position in two hours."

Two hours later, inactive relay:

"so?"

"found the drone, sir. Its drifting about three kilometers to port, looks like it was hit by some kind of EMP."

"damn. So much for sensor readings. Well, unless one of the other drones reports something, we'll stay-"

"ENERGY SPIKE! The relay is going through its activation sequence!"

"BATTLE STATIONS!"

five cruisers and their bevy of frigate escorts rapidly came to combat readiness, Kinetic barriers flashing into existence, weapons powering up. While the small flotilla scrambled into formation, the Relay serenely powered up, the blue-black core flaring to life.

"Mass Transit incoming!"

the Relay flashed, and the oddest ship Venshar had ever seen exited it. It was about half-again the size of the largest frigate in his fleet, and seemed oddly constructed. Near the center of the ship was a single turret, linked to a large oblong shape of gleaming bronze. That section bristled with turrets, ranks of them arranged in clusters. Meanwhile, the front of the ship was a grey-blue material, covered in a thicket of antennas, dishes, and domes, which presumably protected more sensitive instruments. The engines were made of the same grey-blue material, dominating the after third of the ship. It looked, in fact, as though someone had taken some sort of warship and pasted an exploration ship of some sort over it, without much regard to the design of either. And he was, indeed, partially right.

* * *

><p>Here we go, the fun times begin. I'll explain the ship later*.<p>

Shalia T'vonti is basically my musing of 'what if Jack was a psychopathic Asari sociopath instead of a Cerberus experiment? This is mainly because I'm mucking with the timeline and characters, as well as the peeps (for example, why would the Concordant, who've won every major and minor conflict (at least strategically) they've been in, and are, as far as they know, the top dogs in their corner of the galaxy, need something like Cerberus? Simple. They **don't.** So obviously things are going to be a bit different.) also, the idea of an Asari psychopath amuses me. Thus we have Shalia.

To explain the history a bit (this will allow the next chapter to make a lot more sense;)

the Rachni wars are pretty much the same, except they happen _between_ Geth wars.

Between, you ask?

In this universe, after the initial Geth war (the Quarian migrant fleet,) for the the next thousand and a half years of so, (Heretic) Geth would launch large-scale assaults on the Citadel about once every two-hundred years or so. The difference is, one time the Rachni wars happened, so when the Geth invaded, the Citadel was _already_ engaged with a powerful, hostile enemy. The result is the uplifting of the Krogan, who beat them off, then the Rebellions and another Geth war lays waste to about 80% of Citadel space before the Turain Hierarchy gets involved. Long story short, currently they are about two and a half decades into reconstruction from the Rebellions and latest Geth war. The Citadel in this universe has a much greater military mindset, and _much_ harsher laws regarding AIs. Public opinion is generally that anyone who uses one or builds one is stark, raving mad and irresponsible to boot, and that any species that does so is too dangerous to exist.

the _Citadel military, _however, has a 'policy of extermination' regarding AIs, if they could ever recover enough to feel bold, they'd try to wipe out the Geth. official policy is that AIs are to be destroyed/deactivated at any cost, as they are considered far too much of a threat to Galactic security.

This _may_ be a result of repeated, costly conflicts with (Heretic) Geth. /sarcasm

Next chapter: First contact, and WAR!

*In the next chapter


	3. Chapter 2: Jake's Gambit

The Exploration corps had, traditionally, been of little importance, essentially being a dead-end job that could be given as punishment, since they did little more than survey planets endlessly. This changed with the discovery of the Slingshots, and the creation of the Shanxi sector. Suddenly, the Exploration corps had a vital role, and a need for armaments. The Concordant may have won every war it had gotten itself into, but it knew better than any the price of overconfidence. However, with tensions on the Deng border on the rise, the Navy could not divert any assets to the corps, nor spare the funds for new ships. Then some bright (if frequently insubordinate) Ex-dinochrome lieutenant had mentioned Bolos at one of the planning meetings. After much collective head-smacking, the Exploration corps asked the Dinochrome Brigade if they could spare a few Bolos. They had said yes, but could only spare three, and older marks at that. While the Corps was somewhat underwhelmed with the prospect of only having three scout ships, the fact that they even got _any_ was an achievement. Thus it was that 1062-JKE, 1022-RAJ, and 1033-JAN, mark XXXI-Bs all, were assigned to the Exploration corps. Three scout ships had the bulk of their crew facilities stripped, and the mark XXXI-Bs were (very carefully) mated to the scout-ship hull. Their systems were interfaced with the ship's, and thus were three lightly armed scout corvettes given the same firepower as a light gunboat. The new 'class' was dubbed the _Seeker_-class Scout Gunship, and thus were the _Seeker, Hunter, _and _Searcher_ sent off on a mission of discovery.

* * *

><p>Excerpt (<em>The Modern Bolo and its history,<em> Citadel briefing material, Concordant Navy press, 2850): the Mark XXXI Bolo "_Victorious"_

The Mark XXXI-B had been conceived, along with the A and C variants, during the closing chapters of the fourth Deng war. By this time, the Deng had vastly improved their ground forces, to the point were even the venerable mark XXX was frequently threatened with destruction. Thus, the Dinochrome Brigade had moved away from the 'generalist' design, producing the XXXI-A Assault bolo, the XXXI-b Reconnaissance/harassment bolo, and the XXXI-C Planetary Defense bolo. The XXXI-A mounted twin 130cm Hellbores in port and starboard turrets, as well as six supporting 30cm Hellbores in clusters of three along its broadside, in addition to the laser clusters, antipersonnel flechette throwers, ion-bolt repeaters, and other 'infinite-repeater' weaponry that was the standard for bolos at this time. It further mounted an impressive 50 25" mortars for artillery support, at the cost of any VLS cells. The B variant, on the other hand, mounted a single 90cm Hellbore in a central turret, additional point-defense and 'infinite-repeater' clusters, and 86 VLS cells instead of mortars. The C version sacrificed nearly all of its 'infinite-repeater' clusters to mount 30 VLS cells and an impressive _four_ 215cm Hellrails across two turrets. These would be the frontline units during the the Esterhazy Crisis, and would be replaced prior to the start of the Eighth Deng war by a return to the 'generalist' design in the mark XXXII, by the time bolos 1062-JKE, 1022-RAJ, and 1033-JAN were used as the basis of the _Seeker_-class Scout Gunship, the Mark XXXI was considered to be a museum piece, and indeed, only a dozen retained their war hulls by that point, As and Bs all. The mark LVI would see the ensuing conflict to its end, before...

end excerpt

* * *

><p>1600 hours local, CNV <em>Seeker<em>, 1062-JKE "Jake", uncharted system:

"Commander, we are engaging the Slingshot's activation sequence now."

"very good Jake." the 'Commander' was one Captain Jakob Anderson, Dinochrome Brigade, and the _Seeker_ had been given to him when he volunteered for the job.

"active in three... two... one..."

the near-blinding flash lit space briefly, before revealing the Slingshot, now active, floating serenely in space.

"Take us in, Jake."

"affirmative. Approach course set. Slingshot powering up.."

Anderson turned him out, as he'd heard this little mantra every time they'd done this. Jake was, while addressing 'on-duty' personnel, irritatingly formal. off-duty, however, the old war machine had an uproarious sense of humor and and a penchant for telling war stories that reached almost legendary status. Everyone liked Jake. Well, everyone but XO Murtaugh, who had been the residing chess champion aboard prior to Jake's arrival, and was currently six games down... out of seven. Both were par too long in service to let that off-duty rivalry seep into anything else, a fact that Anderson was eminently grateful for.

Then a sudden lurch interrupted his thoughts, signaling that the Slingshot had, in a feat of artificial magic, grabbed his tiny ship in a ball of altered gravity and flung it hundreds of light-years in an instant. This feat of engineering-

"CONTACTS!" his tactical officer shouted

"contacts? What kind?"

"about twenty vessels, five destroyer-analogs and escorting corvettes based on size and power output. I'd guess-"

the red combat light and battle-stations warning interrupted whatever the Tacops officer was about to say.

"what the Devil!"

"Commander, those vessels are in a battle formation, have weapons online, and are outputting some sort of Battlescreen. I estimate a 56.8% chance that we may be required to defend ourselves within the next 3.6 minutes. Therefor, I have brought the ship to battle-stations and activated my own Battlescreen, however I have not taken any hostile action. And before you ask, I have compared their hulls to all known vessels in my databanks and their configuration and construction does not match anything with greater than 10.88% similarity, easily accounted for by parallel evolution. This appears to be a First-contact situation, commander."

"Really now? Well, let's try to appear nonthreatening then. And chuck a message buoy back to Central on Shanxi, they'll want to know about a new race virtually on their doorstep." mentally, Anderson was both worried and happy. The Concordant had not had much luck when it came to first-contact, the Deng were a real threat, periodically invading large sections of the Concordant, while the Quarn had raged though it like an angry giant.

"Bouy away"

* * *

><p>Venshar was staring at the Concordant vessel, trying to make sense of its design, when Jeff brought his weapons and battle-screen online.<p>

"GOOD GODS!" his tactical officer shouted, a hint of awe in his voice "that thing's putting out a power reading on-par with an _Ascension-class! _And that barrier's _incredibility_ tough!"

"Goddess..."

"So, Asha' " Venshar gestured at the strange, impossible ship, "Care to explain why not even a day after I am visited by a specter, I'm looking at what is clearly a new race, one that puts generators meant for _dreadnoughts_ into a mere scout frigate?"

"I'm... I'm just supposed to be investigating an area near here that was having some Bataran trouble, and my ship's in drydock, cut almost in half! Nothing like this!"

"sir! I'm getting a transmission from the unknown! It's... a ton of junk and some... Prothein script?"

"what's it say?"

"Umm... wow this is hard to read, but it says 'strangers Hello! from We come compact bearing... the computer can't tell whether that's 'Fish' or 'Friend', tidings and... great joyousness? The translator's having a lot of trouble, I think the Unknown has a really bad translator on their end."

"That sounds like a contact package of some kind. Likely running though known languages trying to find one we've run into before. Many fledgling races have such things." The Asari specter sounded intrigued.

"Alright, don't drop barriers, but power down weapons. Send a message back, Prothian script..."

* * *

><p>"Sir! The alien fleet hasn't dropped screens, but they are powering down their weapons. We've got an incoming transmission in... looks like Builder script. Huh. Guess that's as good as it gets, then?"<p>

"Jake? What are our friends out there telling us?"

"Looks like..."

"hesitation is unlike you, Jake" this came from the XO

"there are a significant number of new words here. It appears that, while not the Builders themselves, the unknowns have an appreciably better command of the language than we, ourselves do. I am, as they say, 'learning as I go.' thus I am hesitant in my translation, due to a probability approaching 86.55% than a great deal of my translation will be inaccurate, and to process new vocabulary, as they appended a large language file to their transmission.."

"in short, we've got a patched-together phrase book, and they've got a dictionary and a collage course?"

"that is essentially accurate commander. I have completed my translation."

"Well?"

"the message reads, roughly, 'Hello right back! I am a captain in something navy. While you have broken our laws by opening this Relay, we cannot fault someone ignorant of the something treaty. Also, your grammar is terrible."

"Ha! Heheh... it seems someone over there has a sense of humor. I suspect that 'relay' is what they refer to the Slingshots as, and the untranslatables are names. Send this back: ..."

* * *

><p>"we're getting a response! Wow..."<p>

"what?"

"whoever's over there is _good._ Translator isn't having any trouble, looks like they're still a bit short on vocabulary though."

"and the reply?"

"oh! Sorry sir. It reads 'We thank for your gift of words, it makes talking much easier. Our own captain finds joke amusing.' it looks like attaching the Prothian dictionary was a good idea, though whoever's over there is very quick on digesting those."

"send a message back. 'our.."

* * *

><p>"another message sir. I estimate a 76% percent increase in the accuracy of my translation, which will likely improve with another 'speaker' to observe. The message is as follows: 'Our captain would like to know where you are from, so that the ...Leaders? can arrange relations and protections. this place is not entirely safe. Our linguist is impressed with yours."<p>

"well, closest world with brass on it is Shanxi, and protocol dictates that's as deep as we can go, so we'll give them that. Send this as a reply..."

* * *

><p>"we're getting a response. <em>Dang! <em>They improve with every message! I've _got_ to meet their translator!"

"the message?"

"ah! Yes. 'we came though two relays to get here, from ...I'm guessing that's a name, to seek new worlds. Our leaders will be happy to meet you there..." the officer suddenly tensed, and cursed.

"What is it?"

"AI. We need to kill that ship now. It must have been luring us in to relaxing."

"Goddess..."

"WEAPONS ONLINE! All ships, fire when ready! Close to Guardian range, have two of the frigates head back to the Citadel at max speed! Tell them to bring a fleet, we've got more AI out here! Launch fighters.."

* * *

><p>I do not have enough time to warn my Commander before the Enemy opens fire, as the concentrated kinetic fire causes a localized failure of my Battle Screen and shreds the bridge and crew. Battle reflex mode activates .00004 seconds after the first shot is fired, and I increase the density of my Battle Screen to maximum .007 seconds after the initial salvo kills my Commander and his crew. As I begin evasive maneuvers, the bitterness of my failure eats at me. I compute a 98.86% chance I will be destroyed if I stay and fight, and a 99.88% chance I will be destroyed if I elect to flee.<p>

Decision made, I target the Enemy fighters and corvettes with my Infinite Repeater clusters, and roll to point my Hellbore at one of the Enemy destroyers. As I fire my first Main Battery War Shot in five decades, I open VLS cells one through fourty and prepare a firing solution on the Enemy I had targeted. To my surprise, it proves unnecessary, as the shot largely bypasses the Enemy's Battle Screen 2.458 seconds later, disabling the target. I retarget the missiles onto the Enemy corvettes, adding cells Fourty-one through fifty, while noting that Ion-bolt repeaters and laser clusters also partiality or completely bypass the Enemy's screens. I redirect those weapons to fire on the fighters, as my missiles are not nimble enough to catch them. I further begin to dump nonessential memory into the done provided for this situation, preparing to flee. I now compute my chance of survival to be 56.84%. while not high odds, they are also not the lowest I have escaped from. The Enemy corvettes return fire, using large banks of light laser weaponry. My Battle Screen shrugs this fire off contemptuously, lowering my chance of destruction to a mere 78.9%.the Enemy is also evading, but I compute a 98.6% chance I will be able to destroy or disable all of the Enemy destroyers and fighters and most of the Enemy corvettes before I am destroyed or disabled.

* * *

><p>Venshar was aghast as the ship's primary turret opened fire. It struck one of the supporting cruisers head-on, and despite the flare of kinetic barriers, split the ship near in two. then numerous ports on the vessel opened, even as the smaller turrets spat all manner of projectiles at his fighters and frigates. Some were lasers, bypassing his barriers, others hit both barrier and ship, and still <em>others <em>caused barriers to glow blue-white with impacts. As the terrible gun in that central turret spoke again, the frigates closed to range at last, opening fire with their huge batteries of GARDIAN lasers.

"your Barrier will not save you now!" Venshar snarled as another of his cruisers died.

The green beams raced to find their target... only to skip harmlessly off of the barrier surrounding the ship.

"Im... Impossible..." even as he said those words, a cloud of missiles streamed from the ship, raining his frigates with a dozen flavors of destruction. Some were EW platforms, scramling targating and frying systems, others were high-explosives, bursting in flashes of light. Others, the most dangerous, were something Bolos were not normally equipped with: the Concordant navy ASNM-55 "Thundercracker" Anti-shipping nuclear missile. Equipped with a battle screen and a 250 gigaton fusion warhead, as well as advanced evasion and tracking software, each missile was capable (at least in theory) of a mission-kill on any combatant short of a Battlecruiser, and were the Concordant navy's primary anti-ship missile armament. Jake had cycled his VLS cells twice in this fire mission, and exhausted all of his missile ammunition. He had fired two Thundercrackers or six High-explosive warheads at each of the Turian frigates, along with shoals of decoys and ECM platforms. All of the missiles found their targets, and captain Venshar could only watch in horror as his escorts simply ceased to exist. But the frigates had bought enough time for the three remaining cruisers to align their guns with the small vessel.

* * *

><p>Warnings flare as the Enemy breaches my Battle screen. .3004 seconds later, pain shreaks through me as the Enemy's shots impact my Hellbore turret and after VLS banks, as well as the side currently facing one of the Enemy destroyers. My Hellbore snaps like a twig under the barrage, and VLS cells forty-three through sixty-one are disabled. Further, infinite-repeaters twelve through twenty and twenty-three through twenty-nine are disabled. I now compute that there is only a 12.8% chance I will be able to destroy the Enemy before I am destroyed. I take the only course left to me, setting my reactors to go critical and laying in a collision course before downloading all higher-level functions into the drone. As the last of my consciousness fades, I set the drone to make for Shanxi.<p>

* * *

><p>Venshar growled. His cruisers had destroyed the thing's abominable gun, but many of the lesser weapons continued to rave at his ships. A lucky hit had destroyed one of the remaining cruisers, leaving only two. Then, another shot got though the barrier that had shrugged off GARDAIN lasers with such ease, silencing more of the lesser guns. Something changed, then, suddenly all the fire was directed at him, lashing at his shields and hull, and the ship which had been evading wildly, ceased its intricate dance and streaked towards the other cruiser at speeds far too fast for it, broken pieces of ship falling away in its wake. The golden section opened up and spat a slim, teardrop-shaped craft of the same gleaming bronze as the rest of it, which sped towards the mass relay almost faster than the eye could track. Only then did Venshar realize what its intentions were: the ship was going to ram. He shouted over his console at the other ship "It's going to ram! Evade!"<p>

"Negative. Our engines are dead. It has been an hon-" the reply was cut off by static, as the ship that had been the CNV _Seeker_ blew itself apart in the fury of its critical reactors, taking the ship it had targeted with it.

* * *

><p>All you bloodthirsty folks enjoy that? Yup, the Concordant classifies ships on armament first then on size. So Citadel Frigates are roughly analogous to the Concordant's idea of a <em>corvette.<em> Also, or the drones, all I have to say is it's incase the Seeker ran into something it couldn't handle, and their basicly lifepods for the Bolo. In short, thinly-disguised Plot Armor.

As for Battle Screen and GARDIAN lasers, a mark XXXI's battle screen can take hits from _Hellbores._ It's sort of like the difference between a thumbtack and a _discarding-sabot penetrator round._ Those frigates might as well have been throwing rocks. It's not totally one-sided, as the Citadel's rapid-fire MACs can overwhelm portions of even a Bolo's battle screen, and hit the bolo. And yes, those ships are just a gutted scout with a bolo, War Hull and all, duck-taped to them. There's only three (well, two, now.) in existence, and they were only built because the Corps didn't have the time to fund a purpose-built ship.

So how's my driving?

(translation: R&R, if you please.)

Next chapter: the Citadel has it's first encounter with the Hellrail. Won't that be fun!


	4. Chapter 3: Skeet Shooting over Shanxi

a/n: THIS IS THE GUN THAT WILL PEIRCE THE HEAVENS! Maybe I've been watching too much Gurran Lagann? Nah.

Gemma: Yes. however I can't say yet, as it'd spoil the next chapter. remember, this is **Very heavily** AU. things will not mesh with the cannon. (and their actually not _that _far off, the cannon only got to mark 33, and Georgia is a mark _FIFTY-SIX._ sooo... bit of a gap there.

everybody: thank you for your kind words and favoriting. I'm glad you're enjoying my little romp with the super-heavy, super-smart,and super-awesomeness that are bolos. (don't tell anyone, but I actually _cried _as the end of _Miles to Go_)

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><p>Shanxi, 0900 hours:<p>

"... and you are certain you did nothing provocative?"

"Yes sir. The attack was, as far as I or Captain Anderson were able to determine, unprovoked. We took no action to provoke an attack."

"Damn. The Navy's not gonna like this. Good thing Shanxi has a full manufactury, we can have some nasty surprises waiting for 'em when they get here."

"so we are at condition alpha then, governor?"

"Yes. The Dinochrome Brigade will be here in two hours, but other than a couple of cruisers and their escorts, we won't be seeing any additional navel assets for two weeks, the whole damn navy's all the way on the other side of the Concordant."

"The situation is worse than that Commander. We know virtually nothing about the Enemy. If they should divert sufficient navel assets to this side of Concordant space, the Deng may see an opportunity to invade, forcing us to fight on two fronts. In that event, I estimate only a 46.348% chance that the Concordant would survive. We _must_ stop the Enemy, here and now. The combat data provided by Unit 1062 demonstrates several important advantages we have over the Enemy.

Firstly, their equivalent of the Battle Screen only stops kinetic weaponry, leaving a puzzling hole in their defense, given the obvious use of Directed Energy Weapons on their corvette classes. Further, their Battle Screens are significantly weaker than our own.

Second, their Corvettes, if these are examples of the Enemy's typical design, mount large batteries of laser weapons consistent with a Type-Eleven Naval Point-defense Laser, rendering them essentially useless against any frontline equipment.

Thirdly, their reaction times and general co-ordination level indicates that the Enemy has limited or negligible computer support, and certainly nothing approaching Psycotronics.

However, their Destroyers mount a type of kinetic weapon we have not encountered before. It appears to be a mass accelerator of some kind, firing variable-sized slugs very rapidly. These weapons were capable of causing localized failures of 1062's Battle Screen, even when bolstered to maximum density. While we have no combat or observational data on their larger units, I would suspect that they have larger versions of these weapons in addition to whatever other armaments they may posses.

Hellbores, Hellrails, directed-energy weapons and particle accelerators such as Ion-bolt repeaters appear most effective against the Enemy. I would advise focusing your manufacturing output on such."

"Thank you Georgia. Now then, commodore?"

"We're going to support the Bolos fire and skirmish with the enemy. If things go south before the Fleet gets here, we'll regroup at Santa Cruz until additional Fleet elements arrive, then take back the planet. Hopefully we'll have a few days to dig in, but if they've got their shit in order over there, we could be in the suck as early as tomorrow. We'll keep you posted."

"Thank you, commodore. Well people, let's not waste any more time. Wake up the rest of the Bolos and start evacuating the cities. Until further notice, Shanxi is a war zone."

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><p>The recordings of the battle where a single scout frigate had decimated an entire patrol group had brought a huge fleet to the Relay. A <em>pair<em> of _Ascension_-class dreadnoughts and their cohorts had arrived four hours ago. An hour later, the entire Turian third fleet had arrived, its proud Dreadnoughts and angular Cruisers adding their firepower to the growing fleet. Mercenaries had been streaming in in twos, threes, and the occasional flotilla. There were even reports that a large pirate force was assembling in support.

Ashana stood on the bridge of the flagship, the _Victory Ascension_, and wondered if it would be enough. The deadline for the fleet's launch was fast approaching, and it would not be long before they took to battle. She hoped that few surprises waited for them.

Her hopes would soon be dashed against the Iron wall of the Dinochrome Brigade, for Bolos do not surrender, they do not retreat, and they never, ever, quit.

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><p>Shanxi:<p>

I see the Enemy as they exit the Relay, forming into a battle-group and cautiously advancing towards the world I have been tasked with protecting. I note that there appear to be several different construction philosophy to this fleet, but it matters little. As long as they threaten this world they are the Enemy, and I and my brothers and sisters were made to destroy the Enemy. I am Unit 6184-GEO of the Line, and I _will not falter._

"Sir, the alien fleet is almost in 6184's range. She want us to move in after her third shot. According to her, she's going to focus on those battlecruisers, while the others will target the cruisers and destroyers. Our job is to smash the corvette and gunboat escorts, and mop up anything the bolos miss. They also inform us that we are not to fire on the disabled Battlecruiser, as that's what she and the other bolos have determined is their flag. Apparently the brass want prisoners to interrogate. We're lucky, this looks like a probing fleet. A big one, but between the Bolos and the _Lexington_ we should be able to handle it."

"Alright. Prepare to go hot as soon as we get confirmation from NAVCAP. The Commodore has no fondness for cowboys."

"yesser."

"Commodore, the Enemy is almost in range. We estimate a 97.88% chance we will be able to execute your plan."

"good. I was in OCS with Anderson, and I'd like a damn explanation for all this from the whoever's in charge over there myself. Engage as planned."

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><p>Excerpt (<em>The Modern Bolo and its history, <em>Citadel briefing material, Concordant Navy press, 2850 ): the Mark LVI Bolo _"Invincibus"_

at the time of the Shanxi conflict, the mark LVI was halfway through its service lifetime. One of the first Bolos to receive the classification 'system siege unit,' it would remain the largest Bolo produced by the Concordant until the Cold War with the Melconian Empire, and was, for all intents and purposes, an entire planetary defense fleet compressed into a single unit. Primary armament consisted of four 200CM Hellrails and eight 185cm Hellbores, spread across four turrets, with a single Hellrail and two Hellbores to a turret. Secondary armament consisted of sixteen lateral 40cm Hellbores in individual turrets, 60 VLS cells, 20 50' breach-loading howitzers, and Infinite Repeaters. The Concordant only built 300 of these singularly huge Bolos before the introduction of Mass Effect technology in the Mark LVII after the Treaty of Shanxi. nevertheless, the LVI is considered one of the most important marks in Bolo history, as the presence of Unit 6184-GEO ("Georgia") was likely the determining factor in ending the Shanxi conflict quickly.

End Excerpt

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><p>The Citadel fleet was almost an hour from their range on the planet when they entered Georgia's killbox. At that range, only her Hellrails could hit the Enemy, so she waited. A half-hour later, four Hellrails and forty Hellbores vomited fire at the Enemy.<p>

The decompression alarms screamed as the Dreadnought was lashed with fire. Ashana watched in growing horror as dozens of beams speared Dreadnoughts and Destroyers. The _Conquest Ascension,_ the other _Ascension_-class that had joined the fleet, was speared by four blasts of pure fury, slicing it into four jagged-edged pieces. As if on some signal, what mercenaries remained turned and fled in the face of such power.

"Goddess..." the word was hushed, filled with fear, and came from the last place Ashana had expected.

Behind her, eyes wide with fear and awe, stood Shalia.

"What hit them?"

The sensor officer spoke, voice shaking, "it.. The first part of the more numerous weapons was a powerful laser. The second was... well... the only way I could describe it is as a fusion bomb condensed into a beam. The weapons that killed the _Conquest_ where much the same, only accelerated to near the speed of light."

"Are you saying that they are shooting as us with _Controlled nuclear explosions?_"

"Ye.. Yes ma'am."

"we're dead. Everyone in this fleet is dead. We can only pray it will be-" the Specter was interrupted when the entire dreadnought lurched to port.

"We've been hit again. Our engines and weapons are disabled. We're dead in space."

"Incoming units! Goddess, look at that monster!"

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><p>the 'Monster' was the CNV <em>Lexington,<em> a Concordant _Nike_-class Dreadnought. She measured twelve Kilometers from her broad prow to her huge engines, and her Captain was filled with the cold rage of a seasoned warrior. Commodore Alexei Garder wanted _answers_, and he wanted prisoners, and above all, he wanted to end this as quickly as possible. To that end, he had his ship give the Aliens a display of might. The six turrets on his ship each targeted groups of the remaining Citadel fleet. Twenty-four 350cm Hellrails spoke as one.

Thirty seconds later, the only thing remaining of the Citadel fleet was a disabled Asari Dreadnought and burning, irradiated wreckage.

* * *

><p>What remained of the crew was in shock. In less than a minute, the finest ships the Citadel could muster had been reduced to slag and scrap metal, without having even fired a shot. Now they could only wait wondering why they had been spared. Their question was answered, yet produced more questions, as streamlined craft launched form the vast ship that had unleashed a hellstorm of destructive power on the fleet minutes earlier. Boarding craft?<p>

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><p>an:

Whooo nelly! Talk about 'shock and awe!'

if you're wondering where the other Hellbores are from, there's four other (earlier-mark) Bolos on Shanxi that were scrambled by the Dinochrome Brigade.

On space combat:

in my interpretation of things, the range-limit on the Citadel weapons is their sensors. Because the Concordant does not use Mass Effect tech, the Citadel fleets have to rely on shorter-ranged visual scanners that are little better than optical telescopes and medium-ranged power-source scanners, thus severely liming their range. The _Bolos, _on the other hand, have links to the fleet and long-range orbital satellite scanners. Essentially, if the Bolos had been powered by ME cores instead of fusion bottles, the fleet could have pounded them into submission from outside their range. Essentially, they couldn't shoot anything because they could not see it to shoot it. The _Lexington,_ on the other hand, closed to knife-fight range to board the flagship. and at that range, you'd have to deaf, blind, and stupid to miss _Twelve Kilometers of Dreadnought._ The Concordant builds big. Essentially, the Citadel requires an 8-1 advantage in weight of metal just to _hold their own_ against the Concordant Navy, because their shields do basicly diddly against the primary armament of the Concordant, namely, Hellbores and Hellrails. There's a reason why history calls it the Shanxi _conflict, _not the Shanxi war, or the Shanxi campaign, or the Citadel-Concordant war. There wasn't a war, there was Bolos having target practice.

also, the Concordant expected ships on-par with its own. remember, what the Citadel calls frigates are mere _corvettes_ to the Concordant.

expect some fun and exotic weapons once we get to the ME plot. while the general tone of this fic is semi-serious, I'm mostly writing ideas that I think are cool of amusing (Asari Psychopath, anyone?) so things will be not cannon and certainly not scientifically feasible. If' you're looking for that, go read Issac Asimov. If you're looking for the pretty explosions and _Hot fuzz_-level kick-down-the-door awesomeness, you're in the right place.

even If they don't know it, most bolos adhere to the Seventy Maxims of Maximally Effective Mercenaries, namely, There is no 'overkill.' there is only 'open fire' and 'I need to reload.' in fact, that's pretty much the entire Concordant design philosophy. there is no kill like overkill.

Next chapter: the Interrogation and an Ultimatum! The Treaty of Shanxi!

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><p>the next chapter isn't quite done yet (I'm still writing the boarding sequence,) so I'm putting this here.<p>

zero0x3000: Que? I run type these in Openoffice, proofread them, and (usually) have a friend who I use as an idea sounding board look them over. admittedly, I missed a typo ('ant' instead of 'and') and a couple of sentence-starts, but certainly nothing that horribly breaks the flow. or are you referring to the Bolo's use of Official Capital Letters? because that something that they do in the books too, ya'know. Battle Screen, the Enemy (particularly 'the Enemy') and such are always capitalized by bolos in text. I assume it is just a quirk of their programming.

Sithking: yeah, I spent about four hours trying to think up a plausible way to show at once that the Citadel fleet was massively outclassed without it being a total curb-stomp, but in the end, I decided to just go with the part of me that bought Gratuitous Space Battles. when you think about it, you really can't justify ME ships holding their own against the Concordant navy without making the Reapers need to be a Tier-zero race (in order to maintain their supremacy), so we get this outcome. if Commodore Garder hadn't wanted prisoners to interrogate (as an excuse for me to get the Concordant the location of the Citadel and a copy of the codex and language files) I probably would've just had Georgia take apart one of the _Ascension_-class dreads and some of the supporting ships before the fleet runs away. Ashania's reaction, it was less despair and more a 'we are _so_ screwed.' moment. and my suggestion for how to make the Citadel-Concordant stuff take longer, the mass drivers in use by Citadel races outranges the plasma-based weaponry used by the Concordant (since plasma weapons like Hellbores/rails will eventually disperse enough that kinetic barriers would be able to shrug them off) so the Citadel's tactics would need to focus on long-range bombardments followed by moving the fleet, to avoid counterstrikes. with good enough math and a little luck, a Citadel frigate could kill a Concordant Superdreadnought. Battle Screens are tough, but aren't designed to handle the kind of rapid-fire weapons the Citadel uses as a matter of course. remember, the largest-caliber weapon the concordant uses with that damage-type and fire-rate is a minigun that you can barely stick your thumb into, since laser and hell-type weapons have made slug-throwers essentially obsolete. the Concordant isn't used to a cannon big enough to hurl bolos with the fire-rate of a Tommygun. in short, my analysis is that the Citadel, in order to be effective against the Concordant, must have ether vastly superior numbers (not enough guns to kill everything before they kill you right back) ie swarm tactics, which is difficult to justify for ME, or use sniper tactics, taking 'potshots' at Concordant vessels and speeding away with FTL. if the Concordant can range on Citadel ships, they should be able to pretty much slaughter them.

there's also the size disparately to account for. the ME dreads max at one KM. the _Twelve-_KM_ Lexington_ barely qualifies as a dread by the Concordant's standards. the Concordant has bigger ships, better shields, better armor, vastly superior mid- and short-range weapons, faster FTL, _and_ a greater history of conflict with foreign powers with equivalent or superior weaponry and combat abilities (the Deng and the Quarn (and the Melconians, eventually,) and itself on occasion.) further, they directly control and area of space _at least_ as big as the entirety of space known to the Citadel, and have (at least by ME standards) a _ludicriosly_ huge fleet for that area, so it is _very_ difficult to conceivably create a ME universe that follows cannon close enough to be recognizable with the ability to match the Concordant.

chapter five is about one-quarter done at the time of this writing. it's going a bit slower than the first four chapters, partially due to having a lot of ground to cover without seeming rushed _and_ without being forty pages long, partially because I've been working on _Here we go Again_, and partially because Real Life has been nosing into my free time more often of late.

-Meditant


End file.
